Crave (The Clann #1)

Crave (The Clann #1) Page 10

Savannah

Unfortunately, Greg was anything but back to normal by lunchtime on Monday when I joined him and his friends at their table.

"You ready to go grab some lunch?" Greg said, already getting up from his chair, not a smile in sight on his face.

Feeling nauseous, I shook my head. I was anything but hungry today.

He frowned, his eyes growing even darker and more intense. "You really need to eat, Savannah. I'll get you something." He took off at a jog for the food line.

"Hey, guys, does Greg seem different today?" I asked his friends.

"Now that you mention it, yeah," Mark said before taking a large bite of his nachos. "I think it's cuz he's in l-o-v-e."

"Dude," Peter punched his arm. "You're not supposed to reveal a dude's secrets like that, man."

I gave a half smile. "It's okay, he already said the big three words at the homecoming dance this weekend."

Peter looked relieved. "Figures. The guy's been talking about you nonstop ever since."

"Is that...normal for him?"

"No. Not that he hasn't talked about you before. But this is something else. The dude woke me up at two in the morning after the dance, calling me to rave on and on about your eyes."

My eyes. Cringing, I stared down at my hands in my lap. What have I done?

"Ah, don't worry about it, Sav," Mark said. "He'll come to his senses. All us guys do."

"Here you go." Greg returned and set an overloaded tray in front of me. "I didn't know what you'd want, so I got one of everything."

He wasn't kidding. He'd bought enough food to create a mini mountain on the table. A short laugh of disbelief burst out of me. This could not be happening. "Uh, thanks, Greg. But I'm really not hungry."

"Are the Charmers teaching you not to eat or something?" He held up a piece of pizza and shoved it against my lips. "Here, just eat a little. You're too skinny anyways."

A glance around the table showed two male reflections of what I was feeling.

"Greg, I'm not hungry," I insisted, leaning away from the pizza. "Drop it please, or I'll have to go sit with the girls today."

"Yeah, man, lay off her already," Peter said.

"Back off," Greg growled at his best friend. "I know how to look out for my own girlfriend."

Judging from Peter's stunned expression, Greg had never spoken to either of his friends like that. He had to be acting this way because of me. I had to do something before this situation got any worse.

I stood up. "Sorry, guys. But this is getting out of hand."

"See ya, Sav," Mark said. Peter just looked embarrassed.

"Don't call her that," Greg muttered. "Only her friends and I call her Sav."

I gasped. "Greg, I can't believe you're being so rude. Peter and Mark are my friends, too, now. I don't know what your problem is with them today, but if it's because of me, you need to stop it." I nodded at Peter and Mark. "See you guys later." I turned to walk away.

But Greg grabbed my wrist. "Where are you going?"

I gazed down at his nose, studying his eyes with my peripheral vision. What I found there made me want to dig a hole to hide in. He looked...possessed, just like those boys outside the math building five months ago. As if he'd like to drag me down a very dark and private alley, whether I wanted to go with him or not.

"Uh-uh, not cool, man," Peter muttered.

I made my voice as steady as I could. "Until you can cool off and apologize to your friends, I'll be sitting with the girls." I looked down at his hand clamped on my wrist and tried not to think about the pain radiating out from his grip. "Let go of me, Greg."

He hesitated, and my fingers started to go numb from the lack of blood flow past his grip. What would I do if he refused? If I made a scene today, and then he went back to being his normally sweet self tomorrow...

Finally he let go.

The blood rushed back to my fingers. But I couldn't manage to breathe yet. He might change his mind. I tried to keep my pace slow and steady as I walked away on shaking legs, my sense of hearing in overdrive, my shoulders hunched with worry that he'd try to follow me across the cafeteria. The forty yards between his table and mine had never seemed so long before. I think I managed a normal pace. Yet all I wanted to do was run, to get out of that cafeteria with all those people watching and keep going until I was off the campus and safe. Safe from Greg, my own boyfriend.

Just three days ago, Greg and I had walked over to my table together, laughing and looking forward to the homecoming dance. Tears burned my eyes and threatened to spill over by the time I reached my friends.

"Sav? What's up?" Michelle asked. "I thought today was Monday."

"It is." Carrie's gaze was too observant for comfort today. I avoided looking in her direction.

"What'd he do?" Anne snapped, half rising from her seat while tightening her ponytail as if in preparation for a battle.

I sank down into my chair. "Don't-don't worry about it. He's just being...weird today. He and his buddies started to argue with each other, and I didn't want to listen to it." I was shaking all over. My voice didn't sound right even to my own ears. Taking a deep breath, I held it before slowly letting it out. Forcing a smile, I glanced around the table without actually seeing anything. "So, Michelle, fill me in. What gossip did I miss this weekend?"

Michelle launched into a story long enough to take up the rest of the lunch period. Carrie and Anne let her talk uninterrupted, a feat unheard of in the history of our group friendship. But I didn't hear a word of it.

I kept listening for Greg's approach, dreading the familiar squeak of his sneakers. What am I going to do? My wrist continued to throb where he'd grabbed it. I snuck a peek at it beneath the table then wished I hadn't. The skin was already starting to turn blue with bruises in the distinct shapes of his fingers. I pulled my sleeve down to hide my wrist. Somehow, seeing the physical proof of the change in him made it worse, made it too real to pretend away. I could feel myself shuddering, like a rickety old car barely staying together. But I had to hold it together. I still had two more classes plus Charmers practice to get through.

And then, as the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch period, I remembered. Even on days when we didn't sit together, Greg always walked me out of the cafeteria and up to the catwalk. Oh, Lord.

"Anne, can you walk with me a little today? At least to the catwalk?" The words tumbled out so fast I wondered how she even understood me.

She scowled but nodded. After Carrie and Michelle left with raised eyebrows, Anne and I followed. I refused to look over at Greg's table. I did not want to give my possessed boyfriend any encouragement to join us.

As soon as we exited the cafeteria, Anne stopped me. "All right, what really happened?"

"I... Nothing. It's fine, don't worry about it. Things will settle down soon." I chewed the inner corner of my lips, using the physical twinge of pain to distract me from my fears.

"Uh-huh. I see you're wearing his ring now."

My hand darted up to my necklace. Oh, yeah. I tucked the ring and chain inside my shirt. I couldn't look at her as we walked up the steps to the catwalk. I peeked behind me, but he was nowhere in sight. "Okay, thanks for walking with me. See you tomorrow."

"Promise you'll call if you need me?"

I nodded, the lump in my throat keeping me from speaking as I hurried off to class.

But I might as well have skipped history today for all that I heard in there. The only thing I could focus on was Greg's ring. I couldn't stand the feel of it against my skin, so I took it out of my shirt. And remembered how easily he'd held me captive outside my house after the homecoming dance.

He'll snap out of it, I tried to reassure myself. This is Greg, after all.

Not anymore. Only one direct look from my eyes, and I'd turned him into someone else. Something else.

A little more time, more space, it'll be fine, I thought again, needing to believe it, to believe that I still had it all under control. That this would turn out to be just a bad memory soon. Because this could not be a permanent change I'd created. If it was...

If this was a permanent change, it would be all my fault.

Deep down, though, I knew this was already my fault. Even if the effect eventually wore off and Greg went back to his normal, sweet self, I wasn't sure I could ever forget feeling like this. Even those boys from algebra last year hadn't actually touched me, and they'd been scary enough without the physical contact. I had the proof on my wrist today to show just how far Greg had been willing to go in a crowded cafeteria. What might he have done if we'd been somewhere alone together?

Would I ever be able to go on a date with him again without some part of me being afraid?

At the end of the day, I found a note from Greg in my locker, full of rambling apologies and promises that he wouldn't be rude to me or his friends like that again. I read the letter then folded it up and put it back in my locker. I wasn't sure what I should do yet. But I knew I wasn't ready to talk to him.

He called that night, but I pretended to be asleep when Nanna checked so I wouldn't have to speak to him. When I was sure she had ended the call, I snuck out, grabbed the cordless extension and began to dial my father's phone number. Then stopped.

What would my father do if he found out I'd gaze dazed my boyfriend? What would the vampire council do? They'd already threatened my entire family just to get me to stop dancing. If they found out I had vampire eyes and could sense others' emotions around me...

I remembered Mom's words from last year, about how both sides feared I would become a secret weapon for their enemies to use against them. If I told my father that I'd gaze dazed someone, would the council demand that I side with them against the Clann? Would they take me away from Nanna and Mom?

No, that could not happen. I couldn't risk anyone knowing about this. I would just have to find a way to deal with it on my own, like I had before.

Besides, it would all be fine soon. Greg would recover and go back to his ordinary, sweet self. He had to. Because if he didn't, I honestly didn't know what I was going to do.

The next day, I stopped by the girls' bathroom before lunch. Greg would be waiting for me in the cafeteria. What if he wasn't recovered yet, or was in the process of recovering, and seeing me again set him back somehow?

The only safe option was to stay away from him and hope that a little more time and distance would help the effects wear off faster.

I didn't look in my locker that day, not wanting to find any more borderline-insane letters from Greg. When I got home after Charmers practice, the first words out of my mouth to Nanna were to tell anyone who called for me that I was sleeping. Thankfully she didn't press for an explanation, though the look in her eyes promised she would soon if the problem continued. The sound of the phone ringing an hour later made me want to throw up.

On Wednesday at lunch, I peeked through the narrow windows of the cafeteria doors, took one look at Greg's wild hand gestures and wide eyes at my friends' table, and my feet steered me right back to the nearest girls' bathroom.

I leaned against the long counter and stared at my reflection in the mirror. How could such ordinary, boring-looking eyes like mine cause so much trouble? This was ridiculous. I couldn't keep spending my lunch breaks in the bathroom. If Greg didn't recover soon, I would have to figure out something else, and fast. Though what could I do except break up with him? Even if the effects wore off in the next day or two, I would still continue risking this same situation every time I saw him. Better to break things off with him now, for both our sakes. After all, this wasn't just about him and me anymore. The gaze daze was obviously affecting other areas of his life, too, like his friendships with Mark and Peter.

Then again, how fair would it be to dump him? He hadn't asked to be changed, and probably didn't even know what he was doing under the gaze daze's influence. Should he really be held responsible for a change my freaky eyes had caused?

Never mind how much I would miss talking to him every day. Who else would I be able to laugh with about the Charmers latest drama? I already missed looking forward to his phone calls and notes in my locker. They used to be the highlight of my day.

"There you are," Anne said, scowling as she entered the bathroom. "Hiding out from Greg again?"

"No, just...debating. I don't know what's the right thing to do here. And until I can figure it out, I don't think I should see him."

"Yeah, well, you don't have to figure it out all alone in the bathroom. Come on, what good are your friends if we can't protect you from one measly boy?"

Protection. From Greg, Mr. Boy Scout himself. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Anne-"

"I promise, Sav, you'll be okay. Although it would help if you told me what was going on."

Staring at the grubby linoleum floor, I sighed and nodded. She was right. But I would have to be careful about what I revealed. "Remember the three boys from algebra last year?"

She sucked in a breath, the sound echoing off the tiled walls. "Same problem?"

I nodded, my eyes burning.

She swore. "Savannah, what made you think-"

"It's Greg! It's been five months since the last time. I thought maybe it would be okay."

"You know I love you like a sister. But that was pretty dang stupid."

"I know. I don't suppose he seemed better today? I saw him at our table, but I couldn't hear him."

"Nope. He asked about you, and the boy looked straight-up possessed. Asked me to give you this letter, too." She fished in her pocket then handed me a folded note.

His letters always used to make me smile before I even read them. Now all I felt was dread. Slowly I forced my fingers to unfold it. The entire sheet of paper was filled with two words repeated over and over...I'm sorry.

A laugh that felt more like a sob burst out of me. I gave her the note so she could read it for herself, knowing she wouldn't have already without my permission.

"He's gone off the deep end," she whispered, her voice bordering on awe. "What did you do?"

"I made eye contact with him. Apparently that's all it takes." And suddenly, I couldn't take it anymore. "Anne...I think I'm turning into a monster."

Tristan

The same old ache sucked the air from my lungs as I turned the corner from the walkway and the sunlight hit a too-familiar head of red hair up ahead. Savannah was wearing it down today for a change. Nice. Too freaking nice.

Man, how I wished I could get her out of my system.

I hadn't put a spell on Stanwick to make him hurry and screw up his shot with Savannah, but only because I didn't want to see her upset. Otherwise, Emily said I easily could have magically convinced him to cheat on her or drive her to break up with him for hundreds of different reasons.

For now, Stanwick had won. He made her happy. A blind person could see he was all wrong for her. But as long as he made her smile, how could I get in the way of that?

In the meantime, I couldn't decide if sharing history class with her made it the best or worst period in my schedule.

Several yards ahead, Savannah disappeared into the history class's building. Anne turned, saw me and frowned. She was looking extra ticked off today. I expected her to walk past me. Instead, she walked right up to me and planted herself in my way.

"Tristan, I need to talk to you."

"Whatever it is, I didn't do it," I said with a half smile. It was the best I could do, and a lot more than anyone else had gotten from me in months.

"Funny. No, I mean a certain person we both know needs your help again."

Everything went cold inside me as the blood rushed down to my gut. Savannah was in trouble again? I opened my mouth to reply then heard footsteps approaching from behind me. I glanced back over my shoulder and nearly cursed out loud. It was Mr. Smythe, Dylan's uncle and a descendant. He was within hearing distance.

"Don't know what you mean." I faced Anne again. I tried to tell her with my eyes that I got it, though.

Apparently I wasn't obvious enough. "Oh, come on. Remember the Warty Boys last year, Arthur? Time to draw out the ole Excalibur again, take care of some toads and all that."

"Nope, sorry, you lost me." I gave her a huge, slow wink this time. Come on, don't be thickheaded and blind.

Her eyes widened then narrowed. "I should have known all you football jocks are just selfish jerks. See you later, snob." She stomped off so believably angry-looking that I actually wondered for a few seconds if she'd understood. Once she was past Mr. Smythe on the sidewalk, though, she turned back and mouthed, "Thank you."

"Planning on being late for my class, Mr. Coleman?" Mr. Smythe said as he drew closer.

"No, sir. Headed there now."

"And are you going to have to deliver any notes for me again?"

Translation: Would he have to send me off to do more emergency grounding? Sitting beside Savannah every other day wasn't always the easiest thing in the world. Every now and then, I lost control in class and my power spiked. When it did, Mr. Smythe had to pretend to send me to the office to deliver a note, so I could actually release the excess energy.

"Going to try not to, sir."

"Good."

I took the three cement steps in one bound up into the building and hurried to my desk. While I shoved my books under my desk, I snuck a peek at Savannah. And nearly flash burned my books.

Despite the makeup, she looked like someone had backhanded both her cheeks. No wonder she'd left her hair down today. She was obviously trying to hide the fact that she'd been crying recently, and hard from the looks of it. Even her nose was swollen and pink. Someone had done this to her. From what Anne had said, the someone was a guy. Another stalker maybe, but who?

I'd have to call Anne tonight and find out who the new stalker was. Wonder what time she gets home? Hopefully not too late. I'd need as much time as possible to load up the protective charms. Anyone who made Savannah cry didn't deserve to speak to her again. Ever.

Her Charmers bracelet jingled, distracting me. She was playing with her necklace. No, wait. She was doing something else with it.

She took off Stanwick's senior ring.

I froze. I wasn't sure if even my blood moved right then. There was only one meaning behind a girl taking off her boyfriend's senior ring. She was going to break up with him.

Pure joy rushed my blood straight to my head, making me want to whoop out loud. Yes! I knew Stanwick wasn't good enough for her, knew he couldn't make her happy for long.

Then I saw her face. She looked ready to cry again. Aw, man, I was a jerk. Here I was ready to do a touchdown dance, and she looked like someone had just killed her dog.

I would break Greg's face for hurting her like this.

Then her sleeve fell away from her wrist. Were those...bruises? In the shape of fingers, too.

Blinding rage filled me, and it was all I could do to keep my energy level contained and not burn the building down around us all. Stanwick's face would more than pay for those bruises on her. If he'd done it, that is.

Confirmation on my hunch came sooner than I'd hoped for. Anne and I got out of volleyball and football practice after school at the same time.

As we walked parallel with each other toward the front parking lot, separated by a few feet so we wouldn't appear to be walking together, I asked, "Stanwick?"

Like me, she kept her gaze straight ahead. "Yep."

"Just him?"

"Yep. He scared the crap out of her at lunch on Monday. She's been hiding in the bathroom during breaks ever since."

He must have given Savannah those bruises on Monday.

"She took off his ring in history." I was almost to my truck now.

"That's my girl. Still..."

"Yeah. Don't worry, I'm on it." Judging by her smile, Anne didn't know about the bruises. Was Savannah keeping secrets from her best friend now?

Had Stanwick hurt her before?

"Keep it low-key and don't embarrass her. Try not to go all Neanderthal," Anne said.

"Who, me?" At my truck, I shot her an innocent look I was sure quickly turned ugly as I unlocked my door. "Meet you at the cafeteria picnic tables in the morning."

"Yep, see you there."

Grinding my teeth, I jumped into my truck and pulled out of the parking lot, squealing the tires by accident. Luckily the cop posted at the corner was a descendant and just shook a warning finger at me. I had too much work to do to wait for a ticket this evening.

The next day, I stayed in the cafeteria long enough to see Anne slip something into Savannah's bags at their table while Savannah stood in the food line. Then I headed outside to get rid of some serious energy overload. Even making all those charms last night hadn't put a dent in my energy level. The descendants had looked ready to kill me at our table to day. Emily had just pointed at the doors in silence, her eyes murderous.

But there was just no way to stop feeling like this. All I could think about was the need to hit Stanwick. Over and over. And how, as far as everyone else knew, I had no right to feel this way, much less act on it.

Leaning back against my grounding tree, I'd just started siphoning off the energy when I felt it-a too-familiar ache in my chest and gut that only one girl caused. But Savannah should be inside with her friends and protected by four of my memory confusion charms.

Still, the sensation was too strong to ignore. So I opened my eyes. And cursed.

Stanwick and Savannah were at the cafeteria's rear exit near the Dumpster station. The curve of the building blocked them from the view of the outside picnic tables. But not from me.

Her eyes were wide, the hurt in them like a punch to my stomach as she handed Stanwick his ring. He pushed back her hand without taking the ring. She tried again, and he ignored her hand, instead pressing his body into hers against the cafeteria's brick exterior.

I was stalking over to them without ever deciding to move. As I got closer, I could hear them.

"No, Greg. Stop. This isn't really you. It's my fault. I did this, I know. But you have to stop."

He tried to kiss her lips. She turned her head and shoved at his shoulders, but he only leaned harder against her and kissed her neck. She stomped on his toes, but he didn't even flinch.

I saw the fear and frustration in Savannah's eyes a second before she recognized me. That look in those eyes fueled my own fury, pushing it to a point I'd thought impossible for my anger to reach. The rage ate me up from the inside out, burning away all logic and reason.

I grabbed Stanwick's shoulder and spun him off her, then threw the dazed senior behind the nearest Dumpster.

It felt too good, landing that first surprise blow to Stanwick's chin and sending him sprawling. I went after him again. But I should have remembered to avoid the soccer jerk's feet; he kicked me in the thigh. The pain had me on a knee in the gravel before I even realized it.

Then we were on each other, Stanwick on top long enough to get in a couple of good hits to my jaw and splitting my lip before I could use the advantage of my bigger size to flip him. Once on top, I landed three good blows to his nose, mouth and right cheek.

Then two soft hands grabbed my upper arms, and her warm, lavender scent drifted around me. At the same time, a red curtain of hair covered my face, blinding me.

"Tristan, stop! It's not his fault," Savannah demanded right against my ear.

"Like it's your fault instead?" I snapped back, trying to hold on to the anger. But the feel of her lips against my ear and the light scent of her was drowning me with a different need.

I leaned down to mutter in Stanwick's ear, "You know if we're caught fighting on campus, we're both screwed. Still want that soccer scholarship?"

He glared at me for a long minute then gave a quick nod. Satisfied we understood each other, I stood up. I stared at Stanwick as he picked up his ring from the grass and stomped off.

"Tristan. Your face," she whispered, reaching up to touch my stinging lip.

"It's nothing."

"That is not nothing. How are you going to hide that?"

I froze so I wouldn't scare her away. She didn't seem to be aware of how she was pressed against my side and arm in her effort to reach my face. "I don't have to hide it. I play football. It's a rough sport."

"That regularly messes up your face?"

She was so close, her face just inches from mine. It would be too easy to kiss her....

"It's a really rough sport."

She smiled up at me, and my gut clenched. The way she looked at me...I could see every tiny fleck in her irises, which were dark blue at the moment. Her pupils dilated as she pulled in a sharp breath through her nose and froze. As I watched, her eyes turned to pale silver.

And then, with our gazes locked together...something just clicked inside me. And I knew.

Knew she was the only one for me.

Knew she always had been ever since that kiss in the fourth grade.

"Savannah..." I had to tell her. Who cared about my parents and the Clann and all their stupid rules? Savannah and I were meant to be. All I needed was for her see it, too, and everything would be okay.

"Oh, no," she whispered, her eyes widening. "First Greg, now you."

Huh? I blinked a few times in confusion.

"Twice in one week. It's almost a record," she said, though the words sounded more like a sob. She stepped away from me and pressed her fingertips to her temples.

"Sav..."

"I'm so sorry. I'm so stupid!" A sob burst out of her, and the sound ripped across my skin. She moved away from my outstretched hand. "No, don't. Tristan, I...I can't believe I did it again. I'm an idiot. Whatever you're thinking or feeling right now, please try to forget it."

Forget this feeling? No way.

"It's not real," she continued. "The feelings will go away in time. I think. I hope. Oh, Lord. Just...I'm truly sorry I looked at you. What a way to say thank-you."

Okay, maybe the stress of the moment had made her snap, because she wasn't making much sense. She turned away.

I grabbed her arms to stop her from leaving. "What are you talking about? You didn't do anything to me."

"Of course I did. I looked at you. Really looked at you. That's how...what...Greg and those boys last April..." She couldn't find the right words apparently. But she believed what she was saying.

"Savannah, look at me."

She did but not fully, her gaze stopping somewhere around my mouth.

"No, really look at me."

She shook her head.

"Okay, listen to me, then. I feel perfectly normal. I'm not going to turn into one of your stalkers just because you looked at me."

"All the others did. Ever since I got sick last year."

"But not me."

"Why would you be different?"

I started to tell her the truth about the Clann, my family's power and how it probably made me immune to whatever she was talking about. But I couldn't; revealing Clann secrets was an unforgivable offense that would jeopardize every single descendant. "Just trust me."

"Do you want to kiss me right now?"

I sucked in a long breath through my nose. If that was an invitation... Except Savannah didn't look like a girl who wanted to be kissed. She must be trying to build an argument. "What's your point?"

"That's what happens when I screw up and make direct eye contact with a guy. They want to kiss me, grab me, trap me. Own me."

I opened my mouth to tell her that was nuts, then looked down at my hands where they gripped her arms, probably hard enough to bruise.

Muttering a curse under my breath, I let her go. "I won't become another of your stalkers. I've felt this way about you for a long time now. I just didn't get it until today. But it's not because of your eyes."

Tears glittered in those eyes, which were begging me now. "Prove it."

She wanted me to leave her alone. Now, when I finally understood the connection between us. A connection I'd fought for years.

"For how long?"

"Until I know for sure you're not obsessed, that you're acting of your own free will."

"And then?" I stepped closer, not touching her, and dipped my head.

Her eyes widened, her lips parting in surprise. Her short, quick breaths puffed against my lips. "That won't happen. When you come to your senses, you won't still feel like this."

"And when I do still-"

"If you do," she corrected in a whisper.

"Then?"

"Then...maybe..."

Maybe. She didn't want to commit to future possibilities between us. But I could see the longing in her eyes. She wanted to believe this was real. All she needed was proof.

"Fine." I pushed the word out between gritted teeth. I might die trying, but I would stay away from her. For a while. But only long enough for her to see that I wasn't like the others. "But in the meantime, you have to do something for me."

"What?"

"Keep your backpack and dance-team bag with you at all times." Her raised eyebrows demanded a reason. I thought fast. "I don't want Stanwick to try to hurt you by putting something bad in them or stealing them. And if you've absolutely got to date someone else, at least try to pick a better guy."

Her laugh sounded empty. "Don't worry, I won't be picking any new boyfriends for a long time. If ever."

Even better, I thought with a smile. I followed her to the cafeteria door.

She jerked to a halt. "Are you following me?"

Because that was exactly what I'd been doing, I took a moment to reply. "No. Just going inside for a cold soda to put on my jaw." Actually, now that I'd thought of it, that sounded like a great idea.

With a face full of glaring doubt, Savannah continued into the cafeteria.

I let her go, stopping to duck behind my still-seated sister for cover as well as to steal Emily's half-full soda.

"Ah," I sighed as the cold can both hurt and began to numb my aching jaw.

"What happened?" Emily demanded when she saw my face.

"Got a mirror?"

She took a makeup compact from her purse and pretended to check her lipstick so I could sneak a peek at my reflection over her shoulder.

"Huh. It actually looks like it feels." I stuck the can back on it, gritting my teeth against the pain.

She snapped the compact shut. "Well? Are you going to 'fess up?"

"The official story is...football. Really rough practice today."

"Except you don't have football until after school and yet somehow got this way at lunch, genius."

Hmm, good point. "Okay. Suggestions?"

"Only if you promise to fill me in on the truth later."

"Deal."

"Okay." She sighed. "It was football, all right. But the amateur kind with a bunch of freshmen, you don't know who, outside during lunch. You were running for the ball and hit a tree face-first instead."

Of course her story would have me looking like a complete idiot. But it would do. Grinning, I gave her shoulders a quick squeeze. "Genius. And our parents worry how I'll turn out."

"Get to class, heathen. And I want a full report after dinner tonight."

"Uh-huh, sure thing." I returned her soda then ducked out the nearest exit and took the shortest route possible to my third-period class. Along the way, I braced myself for the torturous wait ahead.

Sometimes, not knowing really was better. Because now that I knew exactly what Savannah Colbert meant to me, I suddenly had no clue how I would hide it. And not just from the Clann, but from her, too, for as long as it took for her to see that I wasn't one of her stalkers.

Knowing how hardheaded she was...this might take a while.